


Country Song Summer

by rileywrites



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Summer Romance, country songs, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileywrites/pseuds/rileywrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Scott’s increased duties with Deaton and he and Allison’s off-and-on relationship decidedly ‘on’ again, Stiles and Isaac end up seeking each other out the summer before college.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Country Song Summer

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when the only station my car gets is country. 
> 
> Points to those who can name the song titles in the fic.

"Dude, what the hell is  _that?_ _”_

Isaac visibly bristles from his spot inside the ancient pickup.

"Look Stilinski, do you want the ride or not?"

Stiles looks from Isaac to his (not-dead-but-broken) Jeep and back again. The engine is smoking, dammit, and he has shit to do.

"Fine." He hauls himself up into the truck. "Where did you even find this?"

"A couple in Alameda. They put an ad online and I managed to get it for a pretty decent price." Isaac shrugs. "It isn’t beautiful, but it’s mine."

"I get that. Not that my baby isn’t beautiful, but people don’t appreciate her either."

"Where am I taking you?" Isaac asks as they head back into town. 

"The clinic. I’m bringing Scott and Deaton lunch, then I have some errands to run in town." Stiles frowns. "I guess I’ll have to carry the groceries home on foot, with the Jeep out of commission."

"I can drive you."

Stiles stares at Isaac, but the wolf’s face is blank.

"Really?"

"Really. Besides, it isn’t like you haven’t hauled my ‘furry ass’ around a time or two hundred."

"Usually while you’re bleeding."

"Usually while I’m bleeding," Isaac agrees with the ghost of a smile. "Now, do you want my help or not?"

"Oh, definitely. What kind of fool do you think I am? Don’t think I’m gonna knock having someone to help me. No sir, not my style. It may as well be my middle name— Stiles Ask-For-Help Stilinski. Come rain or snow or sleet or—"

"Stiles."

"What?"

"Shut up." It’s almost… fond, and isn’t that disconcerting.

"Shutting up."

—

 **From Scott: dude im sorry but i have to go to dinner with allison and her dad  
** **From Scott: or her dad is gonna kill me really its in the contract**  
From Scott: sorry ill make it up to you i promise  
From Scott: allison is here ill text you later

Stiles sets his phone down after he reads the last text and rubs his temples.

He’s trying to be an understanding friend, he really is, but this shit is getting old.

"When’s Scott getting here?" the Sheriff calls from the living room. "You want to be sure the pizza will be hot when he arrives."

"Scott’s not coming," Stiles yells back. "Some Allison something."

"Are we surprised?"

"No, and isn’t that sad."

Silence falls upon them until finally his dad says “Can we still order pizza?”

"Fine, whatever. But you’re eating salads for a month."

Stiles is about to call Tino’s when someone knocks on the back door.

No one knocks on the back door.

One quick stop at the broom closet later to grab his baseball bat, Stiles peeks out the window to see—

Isaac Lahey standing on the back stoop with a package of Oreos and a six-pack of Mountain Dew, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

He opens the door.

"Dude, what’s up? What brings you to my back stoop on such a night as this?"

"What, sunny and seventy-five?" Isaac rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I kinda overheard that Scott blew you off, and I figured…"

John appears behind Stiles. “C’mon in, son. You’re welcome to join us for guys night.”

Stiles resists the urge to elbow his dad only because of the look on Isaac’s face.

"He’s right. And dude, you’re pack. You’re always welcome around here." Stiles steps back to let Isaac inside. "What do you like on your pizza?"

"Anything except artichokes," Isaac answers, setting his offerings on the table. "It’s just wrong to put them on pizza."

"Amen brother," the sheriff says, holding his hand up for a high-five. "I’ve been telling him that for years and he doesn’t believe me."

Isaac high-fives the Sheriff reluctantly, but he’s warming up to them already. 

"What movie are we watching?"

"The Avengers. For the three hundredth time," John says, rolling his eyes.

"It’s a classic," Stiles argues, phone pressed to his ear. "What? Oh, not you, Tino."

Isaac just half-smiles and leans in the doorway. 

—

"Stiles."

"Ugh."

"Stiles."

"Mgrph."

"Stiles!"

Stiles throws a pillow in the direction of the voice, and it comes flying right back at him.

"Stiles, get your ass out of bed," Isaac commands. "You promised we’d go to the comic store in Alameda and it’s almost noon."

"I can’t be bothered," Stiles mumbles, pulling the sheets over his head.

Isaac pulls the sheet down from his head and forcibly rolls him over. “Stiles, you promised.”

No no no no no no— dammit. 

There are the puppy eyes.

How the hell is it that all of Stiles’ friends have the puppy eyes down pat and he still can’t talk anyone into anything?

"Fine. Fine, I’ll get out of bed, fine."

Isaac grins, one of those rare, light his entire face up grins that Stiles has been seeing more often this summer. 

"Thank you." Isaac stands and straightens his (Stiles’?) hoodie. "Now hurry up, we have to gas the truck up too."

The next time Stiles pokes his head out of the covers, the Sheriff is leaning in the doorway, shaking his head.

"What?"

"Whipped."

Stiles throws a pillow at the Sheriff’s head, and he just catches.

"I’m not complaining. The boy makes you happy, and he’s good people. Just be safe."

"Shut up, he’s gonna hear you."

The Sheriff rolls his eyes. “Of course he is, son. He’s a werewolf. And I mean it, be safe.”

"Be… safe… Omigod, Dad, we’re not hooking up!"

The Sheriff holds his hands up in surrender. “Whatever you say, kid. Have fun in Alameda, I’m taking Melissa to lunch.”

"Be safe!"

Stiles barely dodges the pillow that comes flying back at him.

—

Stiles can’t sleep.

Therefore, Stiles has crawled out onto the roof in only his boxers and a t-shirt and is staring at the stars considering his existence.

This has been happening a lot lately.

It kinda sucks.

Earlier today— yesterday— whatever, Isaac commented on how worn out he looks, but he didn’t push the issue.

Someone lands on the roof beside him and Stiles startles out of his thoughts and into defense mode. He has Isaac pinned before he realizes what’s happening.

"Congrats, dude, you just pinned a werewolf," Isaac drawls lazily, a bottle of JD in his hand.

Stiles flushes and rolls off of him. “You startled me. You know I don’t handle sudden appearances well.”

Not since… well, since.

"I know," Isaac says softly. "I’m sorry. I assumed you’d be asleep."

"Ha."

Isaac opens the bottle and passes it to Stiles. He downs a glug or two, shaking off the slight wolfsbane bite, and passes it back.

"What brings you to my humble rooftop?" he asks, wiping his mouth on the back of his arm.

"Scott has Allison over. That, and it’s the anniversary, so."

"Didn’t want to be alone?"

"Yeah."

Stiles passes the bottle back to him. “I get that.”

"I know. That’s why I’m here."

They spend the next however long like that, staring up at the stars and splitting a bottle of Jacked-up Jack (Scott’s phrase).

After about half of the bottle is gone and a good buzz has kicked in, Stiles starts talking.

"You know how in the Lion King his Dad is in the stars? Well, I’m not into all that animism shit, and I sure as hell don’t believe in god, but I like to think that Mom is up there somewhere. And she met Erica and Boyd, and they told her I’m not a total fuck-up, even though a boy shouldn’t be without his mother. And she and Talia and all the other Hales— the good ones, fuck Peter— have ‘oh what idiot’ parties, like they’re watching reality tv or some shit like that, and—"

Isaac leans over and cuts Stiles off with a kiss. Stiles blinks stupidly for a second, and a blushing Isaac starts to retreat.

"Oh hell no, get your furry little ass back here." Stiles fists his hands in Isaac’s stupid hipster band t-shirt and hauls him in for another kiss.

After the first awkwardness passes, it’s easy, stupid easy, like they’ve been doing it for years.

They end up spending the rest of the night making out on the roof, and Isaac pulls away as the sun rises.

His smirk is softer than usual. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

Before Stiles can respond, Isaac is backflipping off of the roof and running into the forest.

"Show-off!"

Stiles leans back and lifts a hand to his swollen lips.

That was one hell of a goodnight kiss.

—

Stiles and Isaac have been Stiles-and-Isaac for about a week when Isaac shows up in his room unannounced (again) at eight on a Saturday.

"Don’t you have work?" Stiles asks, pausing the movie he has playing.

"I did, but they ended up scheduling wrong. Jai is giving me the night off. And we’re going out."

Stiles looks, really looks, at Isaac for the first time since he walked in.

"That explains the skinny jeans and slutty tank top."

Isaac arches one perfect brow, and Stiles laughs.

"Believe me, I’m not complaining."

Ass ass ass ass, shoulders arms, ass. A short poem by Stiles’ dick.  
Isaac humphs and starts flipping through Stiles’ closet.

"You have to change, of course."

"Of course."

Which is how Stiles ends up at Jungle in his only pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt he bought before he bulked up.

"I feel absurd."

Isaac chuckles and kisses that one spot behind his ear. “I think you look fucking sexy. Come dance with me.”

The next morning, when Stiles’ drops by the clinic to discuss some runes with Deaton, Scott raises his eyebrows at him.

"You smell like Isaac, you look like you’ve been eaten, and I can almost see the clawmarks down your back from here."

Stiles smirks. “What can I say? We went out last night.”

—

There’s two weeks before Stiles leaves for college.

He and Isaac are sprawled out in the bed of his truck in the depths of the preserve, sweat drying on their skin as the sun goes down.

"You and me… this isn’t just a summer thing, is it?"

Isaac nuzzles Stiles’ hair, stalling for time.

"I hope not."

"Good." Stiles grins against the skin of Isaac’s chest. "I was really hoping you’d say that."

His fingers twist the edges of the red blanket idly.

Isaac smiles. “We can skype while you’re at Berkely.”

"And have skype sex."

"And have skype sex." Isaac rolls him over gently, straddling Stiles’ thighs. "But for now, we ought to relish the time we spend together."

Stiles grins up at his wonderful werewolf boyfriend, running his hands over his thighs.

"I guess there really is somethin’ ‘bout a truck, huh?"

"Oh, shut up."

"Shutting up."

—

 


End file.
